


Spectral

by blindwriter



Category: Magic Kaito, 名探偵コナン | Detective Conan | Case Closed
Genre: Flash Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-27
Updated: 2016-05-27
Packaged: 2018-06-06 20:52:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 273
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6769468
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blindwriter/pseuds/blindwriter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Flash-fiction.  Theme “Discards”, prompt “a misdyed silk flower”.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Spectral

**Author's Note:**

> It has an inherent weakness, but it’s supposed to be a quickie, so I won’t dwell on the issues.
> 
> Pairing is ambiguous on purpose, so feel free to plug in your favorite ship.

**.spectral.**

Another change, another miscalculation, another adaptation, and still not right. Another one to the garden pile. Mountains and mountains of ugly silk flowers. He’s made blue to match the eyes, pink to match the cheeks, red in ostentatious flair, and sunshine yellow that is always too bright. A bitter green, a misleading stain, a heavy grey, and still not right!

His pile grows.

What color should it be, properly, to express the spectrum that only he can see? Especially since he can’t be perceived in any way that’s weak in the knees.

Still, his pile grows.

Out of options and time, he decides to take them all for the sake of pulling one by chance, and then toss the others out. Surely one of these is close, surely one expresses what he wants to say. The words he is unable to articulate.

It’s a move of blind faith, a suicide. He’s bound to break, he figures.

What he doesn’t know is there is one among the pile missed, an error, but strange. Of them all, it’s the one he will pull from his sleeve, the one he will shove forward, and the one that is meant to shine under this moonlit display. There’s nothing there, it’s a blank canvas, pure, and devoid of color. And this one, he finds, is the perfection he was seeking all along.

The others will rain down in a muddy rush of color, but this one - this one can be dyed any hue. And when tender fingers wrap around the offered stem, and a shy smile surfaces, he sees that spectral color there shining in flawless reflection.


End file.
